Poisonous
by FlashFiction
Summary: The old house that the Black sisters had grown up in may have fallen apart, but the memories remained. And the memories were poisonous.


**Author's Note: **This was written for _The Titles Challenge _at the HPFC forum. My given title was "Poisonous".

The house stood desolate and decaying in the midst of the woods. It was a big house or, at least, it had once been a big house. The half missing walls and the dark smudges that lined them suggested that, at some point, a fire had ripped through the building. The wallpaper, what was left of it, was blackened but patches of a dark, musty blue had somehow managed to remain. The floorboards were cracking, rotting in the middle and over time deteriorating away. There was one window, all the rest lay in many pieces on the floor, covered in dirt. Sunlight shone through the window, the grease on the glass pane creating interesting shapes on the sagging wood floor. Dust rose from the structure, the particles floating eerily in the light. The skeleton of a gravel path snaked out into the forest, losing itself in the trees. Birds sang all around; some sang sad songs, echoing the mood the seeped from the old house. Some sang happy, bright songs, reflecting the sun and mocking the feeling of loss that lay all around in a heavy blanket.

A woman walked through the trees, coming to a stop about a metre from the very first floorboard. She was tall and elegant, her body thin and angular. She held a cane, a long, black one, her slightly shaking hand gripping it tightly. Her hair was a light brown and it fell down her back in a cascade of small waves. Her face had the quality of looking ambiguous in terms of age. A few lines creased the skin, perhaps telling of years, perhaps speaking of pain and experience. It was hard to tell. Her eyes were dark, the slight lines at the corners revealing their potential to look kind. Now, however, they were sharp and harsh as they moved over the scene in front of them. Her lips were set in a straight line, unwilling to frown, unwilling to smile. A navy blue cloak hung off from her shoulders.

The woman had walked here alone, each step slow and painful as she relied on her cane. Her leg had been injured recently, but she was not going to let this stop her. She had wanted to walk here, though she could not say why.

As she stood, there was a crackling of branches and another woman walked into the clearing. This woman was shorter than the other. She had blonde hair, straight and long, currently piled on the top of her head in an elegant knot. Her eyes were blue, light blue and they flicked about in a defensive manner. Her brow was furrowed and her jaw was set in a way that suggested she was trying to keep herself from crying. She wore black. A tight, satin dress hugged her slim body. Long, loose robes floated to the ground, a mix of velvet and chiffon.

When they noticed each other, the blonde woman drew her wand from within the depths of her robes and held it out. The brown haired woman just stood there, leaning on her stick. She stared at her companion, the look a combination of pity and contempt. The blonde woman quickly put her weapon, looking suitably abashed, and they both resumed staring at the house.

They had not organized to meet here, though the isolated spot seemed to point to some kind of planning. They were just two individuals who had made the separate choice to come to this house. Because the house meant something to both woman. They had grown up there. They were sisters.

Some say that sisters have a special bond, that they can communicate without speaking. If this was the case then, maybe, a long time ago, they would have been joined by another. She would have been shortest of the three, with wild black hair, dark eyes and an arrogant smile. She would have smiled at the blonde, sneered at the other and then stood and looked at the house beside them. Once. She was dead now. Three had become two, though, given their sister's lifestyle, the living were not particularly surprised that she had been the first to go.

The blonde woman sniffed and folded her arms across her chest. The brown haired woman shifted her feet. The presence of the house made both parties uneasy. They had grown up here, tucked away in the forest, hidden from the world that their parents had been terrified of. They had been taught the ways of the pureblood and then were left to live by them when they were sent to school. The blonde, Narcissa, had embraced it. She now lived with her husband and was a prominent member of pureblood society. Well, had been. In recent times they had become almost social outcasts. The brown haired woman, Andromeda, had shunned the pureblood way and, therefore, had been shunned by her family. She had left at a young age to marry the love of her life, a muggleborn, and they had had a daughter and a happy life. But that was all gone now. He was dead, his body lay in the ground, a few paces away from their daughter who was also gone.

Silence had grown between the two sisters as they both got lost in their thoughts. They had not spoken in many years and, for the present, it looked as though things would not change. Andromeda took a step towards Narcissa, as if to ask for some kind of reconciliation. Narcissa looked at her sister, looked at the house and then turned and ran. Andromeda watched her go, the dark eyes following the figure until it was out of sight.

She understood. Here, in this place, was not where they should start the future. The walls of the house may have been burned, the window broken and the floor cracked apart, but the memories remained. And they were poisonous.

The memories screamed of darker times; of betrayal, of hate, of anger, of prejudice. Of a broken home, where the only thing needed to fix it was love, a thing that there just hadn't been time for.

Andromeda turned and slowly began to walk away. The house and what it stood for was dead now. She would cleanse her soul of its toxins and leave it to rot. She would forget the past and make things right, even if she had to spend her whole life doing it.

And so the house was alone once more. And alone it would remain.


End file.
